Forging Ahead
by BarracudaHeart
Summary: "Sadie knew Lars was getting better. She knew he knew he was getting better. It still always worried her when he had these days. She just wanted to make sure he would be alright, that he'd be back on track the next day." Sequel to 'Broken Pencils' Warnings: Heavy mentions of depression and smaller mentions of attempted suicide, and strong language.


**Warnings for this story_:_**

**Heavy mentions and description of depression, mental illness, and attempted suicide.**

**Strong language**

**If this content might bother you, please don't feel bad if you don't want to read it.**

**For sake of context and to not be confused, read 'Broken Pencils' before this!**

* * *

_Today's a bad day, sorry._

Sadie had heard her phone chime with the special ringtone she'd picked for Lars while she opened up the shop that early morning, and finished turning on the overhead lights before she picked it up to answer it. Quickly reading it over, she sighed, knowing exactly what it meant. It meant she would be working the shop by herself today. She'd been wondering earlier why Lars was running later than usual, and was glad she had an answer.

Before she moved onto opening up the rest of the store, she typed back a response on her little phone, _OK, thanks for checking in. I'm sorry today's a bad day, and I hope it gets better. Please just take good care of yourself today and I'll come by after work to check on you _.

She felt bad her response was so wordy, but figured it covered what was needed to be said. Lars still was battling an invisible monster, and even on the days where he found it too tough to fight, he had to practice self care so as not to fall back into an even worse state.

He'd responded with a _'thanks babe' _a few minutes later, as Sadie placed more racks on doughnuts on shelves, and restocked drinks. She felt at ease knowing he responded to her message, and not ignoring it altogether, which always worried her.

Once the store was finally open, Sadie waited throughout the slow morning, only getting a few customers every now and then. It wasn't that fun being alone at work, and she resisted the urge to text Lars, knowing her boyfriend was probably back to sleep or something. Well that was an assumption at least.

On these 'bad days' Lars would just stay at home, and ease out his exhaustion, his emptiness, his anxiety. Sometimes it was small things that got him going again like sleeping in, or hot tea. Sometimes it was bigger things, like making sure he was eating enough, counting the dosages of his medications to figure out when to reorder a prescription, or taking a shower for the first time in days.

Sadie knew Lars was getting better. She knew he knew he was getting better. It still always worried her when he had these days. She just wanted to make sure he would be alright, that he'd be back on track the next day.

She looked up from her phone when the door chimed, and she saw her plump little friend come in, and smiled, "Morning Steven!"

"Morning Sadie! Two of the usual please!"

"Chocolate jelly, and a banana fritter," Sadie nodded, already having the two prepared in a bag for Steven before he'd even arrived. She knew his preferences like the back of her hand.

"Is Lars in the back?", Steven asked, seeing no sign of Sadie's coworker and boyfriend.

"He's not here today," she sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter.

"Is he OK?", Steven asked, looking at her curiously, pulling out a doughnut from the bag, taking a bite.

"Sort of. He's sort of having a bad day."

"Is he being grumpy?"

"No, it's his depression," she sighed, knowing that Steven was well aware of Lars' problems, "It's pretty bad today. So he called in to stay home"

Steven regretted eating his doughnut so quickly, as his stomach knotted a bit, "Oh..."

Sadie noticed the worry on the boy's face, "He's gonna be OK though," she assured softly, "He's taking better care of himself."

"I know," Steven mumbled, "I kinda can't help but worry though."

"Me too," she sighed, "But it's gonna be fine. Lars is tough. He's getting better in the long run. Sometimes he just has a low day here and there."

"Yeah," Steven sighed, "I'm reading up on it."

"Good for you!", Sadie smiled, ruffling his hair, "The more you know, the better."

Steven glanced at her, "Do you think we should go check on him?"

"I'm going to see him after work. He'll be OK.", she assured. Assurance is what they both needed to give each other during this time. It had been seven months since the night their friend had attempted to take his own life, and she knew that even as things had healed, there was always the silent prayer that this would never happen ever again. She knew it hit Steven pretty hard, especially since he was a kid, this stuff was pretty heavy to stomach.

"Want me to go visit him right now?", Steven asked, "So he's got company all day?"

"I think he's probably sleeping right now," she sighed, "And his mom doesn't go to work until eleven. We'll just let him rest for a bit, OK?"

"OK...but I bet he'd love company...", Steven mumbled, not wanting to risk leaving Lars to feel so alone.

"How about you help me for a few hours, and I'll give you some doughnuts to give Lars?", she smiled.

"Yeah!", Steven immediately beamed at the prospect of being able to gift his friend with treats when he visited. A quick uniform change, and he was at the counter, being the charming little ham he always seemed to be for the customers. It was probably a nice change of routine for the regular customers to have two cheerful employees instead of one cheerful and one surly.

The few hours had passed quickly, Sadie was relieved, as all the work kept Steven busy, and he didn't constantly ask her if she was absolutely positively sure Lars was going to be okay. Before she took a lunch break, she handed Steven a box of doughnuts to take to Lars' house, as well as her key to his house, "Don't be too worried if he's still sleeping, OK? He's pretty tired out."

"Got it," Steven chirped, feeling a tad less anxious at Sadie's assurances, and smiled, "See you this afternoon!", as he scurried out of the store, walking in the direction of Lars' house.

As he was walking, he passed the fry shop, and stopped to give a wave to Peedee, who gave a quiet wave back as he organized the register. As Steven was about to continue walking, another head poked out from behind the counter, almost knocking over Peedee, grinning exuberantly, "Hey, Steven! I was looking for you! I made a breaking discovery the other day!"

"Oh, hey Ronaldo!", he smiled to the teenager, "Can you tell me later? I have to get going."

"I'll just accompany you, and explain the details. I'll try to make it brief, but detailed enough so that you have a full understanding of how infinitely warping this will be!"

Steven sighed as he walked again, Ronaldo hurrying after him, "So I was out at the beach today and this fragment of-"

"Look, Ronaldo, I'm kind of sidetracked right now, can it wait?", Steven sighed, "I have to do some stuff right now."

"Oh...uh, OK," Ronaldo shrugged, trying not to look too disappointed, and pointed at the box, "What's with the doughnut box?"

"They're for Lars," Steven smiled, patting the lid.

"I thought he works there. Why would he need them?", the blogger asked with a snort, wondering with amusement if Lars was too lazy to get his own doughnuts.

"He's not at work today. He's at home."

"Home sick, eh?"

"Well...kind of," Steven decided to let Ronaldo in on the issue a bit, glancing off to the side awkwardly as he spoke, "He's having a bad day."

For some reason, Ronaldo didn't seem to question what Steven meant by that. It seemed as if he already knew with how his excitable steps petered out into a gentle walk, and his voice going a bit quiet in understanding, "Oh. I see."

Steven just gave another nod, "I'm going over to make sure he doesn't feel too lonely."

"I heard about what happened a while ago," the curly haired boy spoke with a surprising amount of solemnity, "Is he OK?"

Steven felt a bit glad Ronaldo had a small understanding of the circumstances, and smiled to him, nodding, "He's doing a lot better... I guess sometimes it gets a little rougher, y'know?"

"Yeah... I get you...", he mumbled, awkwardly picking at a hangnail, getting more and more quiet as they walked. It seemed like he had just suddenly gotten a lot on his mind.

"Hey, why don't you visit with me?", Steven offered with a grin, "I'm sure Lars would like to see his old explorer buddy again!"

"Actually I think I'd better get back to the shop," Ronaldo mumbled, voice devoid of the previous enthusiasm it had, "I'll talk to you later, Steven."

Steven didn't worry too much, more interested in making sure Lars was OK than focusing on Ronaldo's conflicted expression as he walked away.

* * *

Steven had no trouble getting inside Lars' house, not bothering to knock on the door when he saw no sign of the mother's car in the driveway. He was careful to close the door without slamming it, and walked inside, trying to find the stairs. From a window, he could see two large chow-chow dogs playing in the backyard, oblivious to anything happening inside the house. A few family photos were hung up in the hallway, and Steven took a second or two to glance at them. He wanted to laugh at the most recent looking one, how Lars was dressed in a sweater vest, stuck between his two parents. The teen's father had bright red hair like his son, while his mother, and who looked to be like an older sister sat by Lars, had hair dark as ink.

Having a fairly good memory, Steven was able to find Lars' door once he got up the stairs, and seeing it was closed, gingerly rapped his knuckles on the door, holding the box of doughnuts under one arm, just to see if Lars was awake.

"Mama?", Lars' voice called out from behind the door, thinking that his mother hadn't left for work yet.

"Nope, guess again!", Steven smiled, rocking on his heels, glad that the other wasn't asleep.

A groan came in response, and after a pregnant pause, Lars opened the door to his room, looking just as tangled and messy as the sheets on his bed.

"Steven, who let you in my house?", he groaned, squinting his eyes to get a better look, not wearing contact lenses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He didn't seem all too thrilled at the surprise company.

"Sadie gave me the keys," he smiled, "I brought you doughnuts!", he announced, giving a small 'ta-da' for theatrical effect.

"Gee. Thanks," he muttered, looking pretty sour, "Just go put them in the kitchen or whatever, I'll eat them later."

"Sure thing!", Steven smiled, about to turn on his heel, "Be right back!"

"Eh? No no no, you're going to not be right back, you're going to be right _outta_ here, OK?", he grouched, nudging the kid's leg with his foot, "I don't want you in my house."

"I came over so you could have company!", Steven whined, looking like a kicked puppy, wishing Lars would be more accepting of this opportunity not to be alone.

"No thanks," Lars huffed, rolling his eyes, and went back into his room, flopping on his bed. He heard Steven's feet thump down the stairs, and for a minute, thought he'd left. He flopped onto his bed with a sigh, and rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling, spacing out again. He didn't like spacing out like this. It wasn't like when he daydreamed, it was more like when he felt his chest tighten with the feeling like there was something wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint why. He didn't like having these feelings, they just made him feel disgusted and worthless. He thought sleeping it off and some of the exercises his therapist suggested would take care of it for the day, but it was being persistent.

When he heard Steven returning up the stairs, he didn't even bother groaning into his pillow. He just continued to stare at the ceiling. And it was then that Steven would see Lars unguarded, without the snark or bitterness. Just very empty.

Steven saw how Lars stared at the ceiling, with a blank disinterest. His eyes seemed to be dull with disinterest, and he hardly moved. He looked so_ tired_.

"Are you OK?", Steven decided to ask softly, unsure if he should be concerned at how quiet the other was.

Lars seemed to snap back to attention, and grumbled, "Of course I am! Didn't I tell you to go?"

"You don't seem fine," the boy mumbled, not moving from his place in the doorway. He couldn't help but worry about Lars now.

"Yeah, no shit," Lars snapped, a little harsher than he intended, as it was enough to make Steven flinch a little bit, and the teen immediately regretted it. He slunk back under the sheets, self-loathing starting to sink in, and he groaned, running a hand over his face. He heard Steven turn to leave, and spoke up, voice hoarse, "Wait, wait, Steven I-...crap...look, I'm not having a good day OK? I'm really depressed, and tired, and I just want to be left alone, OK?"

"I don't want you to feel lonely...you feel worse when you're lonely, right?", Steven spoke with a worried tone.

"I don't feel lonely, I feel tired," Lars huffed, hoping that would satisfy him and make him leave.

"Are you going to come back to work tomorrow?", the half-gem asked, looking up from his feet with a concerned face.

Lars rolled his eyes, sitting up a bit, "Uh...yeah, probably," he muttered, scratching his scalp, figuring he'd be able to get out of bed and function well tomorrow.

"...Promise?"

The teenager snorted, "Steven, relax, I'll be fine, it's not like I'm going to-", he caught himself before he finished that thought, having suddenly realized why Steven was being so reluctant to leave. If Lars was having a bad day, Steven probably figured that he could very well end up falling into the loop of despair he was in so many months ago, and decide he didn't want to live anymore.

Lars' eyes met Steven's, and he let out a long sigh, "Steven. I promise I'm gonna be fine. I'm not gonna...do _that_ again, OK? If that's what's bugging you, don't worry. I'm just having an off day."

Steven played with his hands, "I just wanna help you have less of an off day."

"You really can't," Lars mumbled, laying back on the mattress, "I gotta handle this one m'self, man. I know y'wanna help me with this, but it's kinda on my end where I gotta get better."

"Well...what do you usually do on these bad days?"

"Sleep it off...", he yawned, covering his face with his forearm, not bothering to tell Steven to leave.

"And then what?", Steven asked, deciding that if he had an understanding of what Lars did on his off days, he'd feel more at ease.

"Uh...eat, shower, and take my medication-"

"Did you forget your medication?," Steven cut in worriedly, "Want me to bring it up so you can take it now? Can that help your day get better?"

"Nah, it's fine, man, I'll take it when I go downstairs later. It doesn't even work that fast. It'd take weeks."

"Darn," the boy muttered, scratching his head in thought, and sat in the hallway, almost rolling backward when he plopped unceremoniously on his butt.

Lars snickered, having caught a glimpse of it, "It's fine man. I'll be back to semi-normal tomorrow or something."

"OK," Steven nodded, slowly feeling a little less worried, "...can I stay anyway?"

Lifting his arm again, Lars peered at him sideways, "Are you gonna let me sleep longer?"

"Maybe...?"

"A'ight. You can stay."

* * *

Ronaldo initially hadn't suspected Lars of being depressed. He'd never really dealt with something as long term as that. Sure, he'd dealt with bullying and a low self esteem when he was younger, but as he got older, and he grew more dedicated to his pursuits, he no longer cared about what people thought of him. Hell, he knew people still made fun of him, but he knew deep in his heart he was doing them a service warning them of the paranormal threats that plagued their city, and they would all thank him for his wisdom and intellect when he proved he was right. He was fairly happy with himself, and with his life.

Because he'd not dealt with something like depression, he initially found it hard to fully understand why Lars had it. He knew Lars was cranky and a backstabber, but he didn't really think of the idea that he was dealing with something more hidden, something more disturbing.

He'd started to actually realize it after their paranormal encounter in the lighthouse basement with Steven and Sadie, when Lars avoided all of his questions and attempts at conversation. He'd tried to playfully tease the other after telling him to take things down a notch, and it just seemed to make Lars more irritable and reclusive. Ronaldo had then told him he shouldn't care so much about what other people thought, and was initially glad to hear Lars tiredly tell him that he didn't care what anyone else thought anymore nowadays.

But he'd then realized after several more minutes of walking alone with the other in the dark that Lars' admittance to not caring was not a declaration of triumph, but a declaration of defeat. He'd stopped caring about anything altogether because he was too empty and tired to even do that.

Ronaldo had then regretted calling Lars emotionally disturbed earlier that night. He'd wanted to apologize for that, but didn't know if it was even worth approaching. Lars had been in a pretty bad mood when he finally told Ronaldo he was going home, and walked back the other direction. He decided it was for the best not to try and repair anything between them.

It had been a month and a half later when Ronaldo finally heard that Lars had attempted suicide. He'd learned of it while eavesdropping over a conversation at the pizza shop between Kiki and her older sister, both expressing worry and sympathy for the teenager and deciding if they should visit him. The blogger had stared at his computer screen in shock, not having expected things to have been that bad, and had immediately felt a sense of guilt for not sticking around Lars after that night at the lighthouse. If he'd known Lars was on the path of becoming suicidal then, he would have made an effort to repair their friendship however possible if it could have made him feel better.

But then it made Ronaldo wonder if he was part of the reason Lars didn't want to live anymore.

He thought back to those regrets he had after his walk with Steven, now back at the fry shop, stomach knotting uncomfortably. He'd thought that Lars had recovered fully enough in these last several months, with how much better he seemed to be doing whenever he saw him around Sadie or Steven, or whenever he passed by the doughnut shop. He'd not heard of Lars having any more desires to take his own life, so he thought he was going to be better from that point on. Now that he knew Lars was still suffering something potentially dangerous, he was conflicted in how to move forward; to either ignore this and move on with his own life and hope Lars got better, or to confront this head on, and admit he wish he'd been there for him.

Ronaldo decided he needed advice, and he needed it from someone who knew how to keep forward when things got hairy or difficult.

He needed to talk to Sadie.

* * *

Steven had promised Lars he wouldn't wake him, but found it was a bit hard to keep quiet when his curiosity was piqued by everything he could get his little pink fingers on. He found this to be the perfect opportunity to explore Lars' room, certain there was lots of hidden stuff to find amidst a pile of laundry, some unorganized books, and a very messy desk.

On the opposite side of the room, by Lars' TV set was a reptile tank that was well furnished, and a small white snake coiled up inside it. Steven was not a big fan of snakes (they upset him on an emotional level), but was curious to see Lars' pet, eyes wide and starry as he looked at the animal in the tank. Out loud, he asked, "You have a snake?"

Lars must have not been deeply asleep, as he groaned under the pillow only a second later, "Yeah. Her name's Sugar."

"Aww...is it because she's a sweetie?", Steven giggled, face smushed against the glass, watching Sugar flick her tiny delicate tongue at him.

"Yes, she is," he grumbled tiredly, "Aw cripes, I gotta feed her..."

"O-oh, I can do it!", Steven volunteered, feeling bad for having woken Lars up again.

The teenager gave a groan, "I should probably do it. She eats dead mice."

"N-No, really! I can do it!", he insisted. Yes, that revelation was absolutely disgusting, but Steven wanted to make things easier for Lars today.

"A'ight," he mumbled, rolling back over, "I've got them in a brown bag in the little freezer under the tv. Pick one out and run it under some warm water for a couple minutes so its not all chilly, and then put it on that little rock under her heat lamp," he groaned, rolling over, and curled up, getting as cozy as he could, and conked out again.

Steven did his best not to whine in disgust as he put on a glove, and plucked out a frozen little corpse. He had to close his eyes so as not to look at the poor little thing while he hurried to the nearest bathroom sink, and turned on the hot water full blast to speed up the process. After thirty seconds of that terror, Steven quickly ushered the sopping wet mouse into Lars' room, not caring that it was dripping water on the carpet, and quickly planted it on the rock where Sugar was warming herself, and it left a little puddle underneath it.

After several minutes, the snake made no move to touch the mouse. Steven furrowed his brow, and stared right into Sugar's beady little eyes until he had to blink. Perhaps she just wasn't hungry?

"...OK...I think I did this right...maybe you're just picky," Steven spoke aloud to the snake, and heard rustling behind him, turning to face Lars, who woke slightly, sitting up on one elbow. Steven sighed, feeling bad he woke Lars up again, "She's not eating it."

"Eh?", he muttered, getting up, in spite of Steven's hushed insistence he didn't need to, and peered into the tank, frowning, "Well criminy Steven, y'don't just leave it in there soaking wet. Y'gotta dry it off."

"Oh, uh...sorry," the boy laughed awkwardly, still grossed out by the mouse.

Lars didn't respond, just getting a towel off the floor, and picked the mouse up in his hand, drying it off thoroughly, and put it back down on the rock. Sugar still didn't budge, just flicking her tongue, keeping warm.

Giving a sigh, he muttered, "She's being picky today. Gotta dangle the mouse so she'll go for it."

As Lars was bending over to reach for something, Steven took this as the opportunity to do it so his friend didn't have to, and took the mouse's tail in his fingers, wiggling it excitably, "Heeeere, snake!"

In a matter of two seconds, Sugar snapped her head forward, and Steven felt a sudden pinch on his index finger, and yelped, dropping the mouse and shot his hand back. Lars stood up immediately, "What happened?"

"She _bit_ me!", the boy exclaimed incredulously, showing Lars his uninjured finger. Sugar may not have had teeth, but she had a mighty strong set of jaws for a little animal.

The teen looked at it, rolling his eyes, "I was gonna grab tongs to do it. Don't ever do it with fingers, or else she's gonna probably bite you or scratch herself on your fingernails."

"Oh...s-sorry...didn't know," Steven apologized, face flushed with embarrassment.

"Well now y'do. So don't do it again," he grumbled, making sure Sugar was eating this time, and closed the lid on the tank, going back over to his bed, and groaned as he wrapped himself in the blanket like a burrito.

"...are you mad?", Steven asked softly, feeling a bit ashamed of having caused this much trouble.

"...no," he mumbled, "I'm just being an ass."

"I-It's OK, really," Steven insisted, "I should just let you sleep."

"...thanks," he mumbled, "...I know you're trying to cheer me up...I appreciate it, really," he spoke into his pillow, closing his eyes again.

Steven sighed, watching Sugar finish her mouse meal and gently crawl around her tank, wondering if the notion of it being appreciated was code for that it wasn't really working.

* * *

"You're the expert on Lars around here, right?", Ronaldo had asked Sadie right as she was in the middle of taking a sip of coffee during the slowest of the afternoon hours.

She nearly choked, and had to swallow hard, her throat burning, "Well...that's an odd way to ask that..."

"I mean, you're his girlfriend, right?" he asked her, "So you know what's going on in his life right?"

"Well...yeah," she nodded, "For the most part," she added with a shrug, not really sure where Ronaldo was going with this.

"Is he still dealing with depression?", he interrogated, voice going a little quiet.

"...yes," she sighed, playing with the lid of her cup, "He's gonna be dealing with it a long time, Ronaldo. That's how these things work...unfortunately."

Ronaldo's shoulders went slack, and he sighed, "Oh...how long has he had it?"

"...He's had it for a pretty long time. Probably longer than we thought," she mumbled. She had no idea how to pinpoint when this would have started, knowing that if Lars had felt something was wrong with himself, he would have probably tried to hide it until it was too much.

"...Is he OK? Steven said he wasn't in at work today because of it."

"He'll be fine," she sighed, "He just needs to take good care of himself. I'll visit him this afternoon after work, and he should be feeling a bit better by then."

"...He didn't get worse because of Halloween did he?," Ronaldo had then asked, sounding anxious. He was starting to think that this was his fault.

Sadie paused, and quickly understood the reasoning behind his question, and sighed, "It didn't happen because of you. He's been hurting for a long time, and I think everything was just starting to build up, and we didn't have any idea what was going to happen, or when."

Ronaldo had fixed his eyes to stare at the counter, hand gently gripping the edge. That answer didn't make him feel any better, if anything, it made him feel worse, wishing he'd reached out to Lars when he had first suspected something was wrong. Maybe he could have gotten help for him, or maybe he could have just done the bare minimum and tried to be his friend again.

A hand touched his, "But, hey, it's OK. He's getting better. He's getting help, and he's gonna be fine...in the long run. He's not really fine right now, but he will be. He knows it."

The teen's hand slid out from under Sadie's and he sighed, "OK. Thanks. I guess I was just needed to hear the full picture."

"Sure thing," Sadie nodded, "Do you need anything else?-"

She received no answer from her friend, who was already leaving the shop without a word.

* * *

In the next two hours that passed, Steven had found a large stack of blank drawing paper and a jar of pencils on Lars' messy desk, and had decided to quietly entertain himself by doodling. He wasn't exactly that good at it, at least in comparison to someone like his dad, or Lars, but it was something he enjoyed without feeling too self conscious about it. In a sub-conscious thought to think of how to cheer Lars up even a small amount, he began to draw his wrestling persona, Tiger Millionaire. He remembered how proudly the poster had been displayed in the doughnut shop's break room, probably having been snagged by Lars off a random fence or telephone pole months ago.

He'd been using some stray colored pencils to finish up the drawing when he heard the bed shift, and Lars rose from the mattress, clothes wrinkled and hair in his face. He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, and seemed to then realize something, reaching for a tiny case on the nightstand, and in a matter of only a several seconds had put in his contact lenses. He glanced over at Steven, "...Were you in here the whole time?"

Steven looked up from his drawing, and nodded, "Yup. Just doodling. I didn't touch anything already drawn on, don't worry."

"Cool," Lars muttered, and looked bored as he stepped over, leaning forward slightly so he wasn't right over Steven's shoulder to see the drawing, "Whad'ya draw anyway?"

"Tiger Millionaire," Steven shrugged, giving a cheesy grin.

"Nice, nice," Lars nodded, "I'm still waiting for him and the Double P to get back on the scene. "

"I bet they're just a little busy," the boy had shrugged again, not wanting to let Lars know of his alter ego. He and Amethyst had been too caught up with a long series of missions as of late to make a lot of the big matches. It would be nice to get back in the ring soon!

"The contenders these days are lame. They banned Ronaldo from wrestling because he kept using his laptop and shorting out the lights in the warehouse, so it's not half as fun anymore," Lars had replied with a dry snort, seeming to be rooting around his room for semi-clean clothes, and once he had a full set of clothing, grabbed a towel from a drawer, and left his room, "I'm gonna take a shower, I'll be back out in like fifteen minutes or something."

"OK!", Steven chirped, glad Lars was awake and getting a start on what was left of the day. Hearing the water run, he decided to explore the upstairs a bit more, avoiding any of the closed doors, remembering Lars' rant about what 'privacy' meant a few weeks before, and began to look at the pictures hanging on the wall. There were some paintings of surreal landscapes and animals mixed in with the photos, and a framed scroll of Chinese calligraphy complete with a small red stamp in the corner. It all seemed so fancy for Steven! He had the urge to touch everything, but the reflection of the hallway light off the glass frame made him quickly realize that his fingerprints would be very very clear, and Lars could get very very upset.

"Hey Lars!", he called out loudly enough he hoped for the other to hear from the shower, "Are these your paintings?"

There was a audible groan, but Lars called back out, "Yeah, they're mine!"

"They're really good!"

Another pause. "Thanks!"

"I like the one with the flowers!", he called out, looking at a vibrantly colored one which had a different tone and feel than the others that were hung up.

"Oh, that one's not mine, my sister did that!"

"You have a sister?", Steven had gasped, now in a casual shouting match over the running water.

When Lars didn't respond, busy shampooing his hair, Steven had asked loudly, "Is this her in this picture?"

"Yeah, that's her!"

"What's her name!"

"Miriam!"

"Is she older than you?", Steven asked.

"Seven years older!", Lars had sighed, "She lives in Seattle right now! She's getting married next year!"

"She's pretty!", Steven smiled, hoping to compliment Lars' family.

There was a sputter, and an exasperated, "Steven!", which made the boy laugh, realizing how silly this shouting match was.

Lars rolled his eyes, smirking a little in amusement as he heard Steven laughing, figuring he didn't have to stop himself from finding that silly since nobody was watching him. After rinsing off, he turned off the water, and dried himself with a towel, dressing in his change of clothes, and began to comb out and dry his hair.

Because the hairdryer was even louder than the water, Steven's shouted questions were unheard, and the boy realized he'd have to find something else to do while he waited. He decided to retreat into Lars' room again, and wandered over to where Sugar's tank was, and frowned as he noticed something very vital was missing.

The snake.

Steven scrambled onto his hands and knees, looking around for the snake, "Sugaaaar?", he called for the reptile, growing more than a little fearful at the idea of a snake being loose in the house. He began to pick up random articles of clothing to see if she'd crawled under them, and even looked on the walls, and up on the ceiling. He was about to get himself stuck under the bed when he heard Lars, finished with drying his hair, ask him what in the world he was doing.

"Oh...uh...Hi Lars! Just uh...exploring!", Steven had laughed uncomfortably, standing upright, trying not to glance at the empty tank, and gave a painful grin to the teen who was picking up all his dirty clothes and unceremoniously putting them in the hamper by his bedroom door. Steven froze. Did he remember to check there?

"I didn't know your idea of exploring was getting stuck under my bed," Lars had grumbled, and was starting to pick up random crap off his floor, putting it away in drawers, or his closet. He was getting close to Sugar's tank when he heard Steven whimper, and glanced back, "Uhhh...problem?"

"Nnnnnope! None! Not at all!", the boy smiled, doing his best not to panic or make the other get worried.

The other gave a snort, "OK, what are you hiding? You're up to something, man. Spit it out."

"I'm not hiding anything! I-I'm not the one hiding!", Steven yelped, realizing he was alluding to the missing snake.

"Huh?", Lars had given a confused frown, and then gave an unamused look, "OK, seriously, what's going on? You're hiding something, and I'm gonna find it!"

"I'LL GET YOU A NEW SNAKE I PROMISE!", the half-gem child cried dramatically, falling at the other's feet.

"What?", he snorted, looking at the cage, "What's going on?"

"Sugar got out of her cage, and I can't find her!", Steven just about bawled, face gross with bubbly snot and tears.

Not even looking shocked, Lars rolled his eyes, and dropped onto his knees, looking under his desk where all the cords to the TV, lamps, and nearby laptop were resting. He smiled knowingly as he saw Sugar coiled up comfortably on the warm router box of the laptop, and pointed it out to Steven, "There's a hole busted in the lid of her tank. She crawls out all the time, no big deal," and gently picked the snake up, casually letting her coil around his hands, and pet her snout with his thumb, "She's just a little shit."

"That's not a very nice thing to say!", Steven pouted, already wiping away the tears and snot from his face, using his shirt, which disgusted even a proud mess maker like Lars.

"Nah, it's cool, she knows she's a little shit, and she loves it," he snickered, wrinkling his nose affectionately when the snake inched her head towards his face, her tongue delicately flicking the tip of his nose. He gave a dorky giggle, which Steven caught, and smiled brightly at, glad to hear him laugh. He glanced at Steven, and for once, didn't roll his eyes, just giving a smirk, letting Sugar rest over his shoulders, "OK, I'm gonna go get lunch or something. Now that I'm awake, I gotta find something to keep me busy."

Steven grinned, following without another word, just glad to be in the other's presence without feeling like he was being annoying. He glanced at the paintings in the hallway as they walked past them, and pointed to the scroll of calligraphy, "Did you make that?"

"Nah, that's my mom's, she brought it over when we moved from China. S'posed to be for good luck and things like that."

"You used to live in China?", Steven asked, intrigued by this new revelation.

"Was born there," he shrugged like it was no big deal, "My dad was sent over there for his job, met and married my mom, had me and my sister in Tianjin, and moved over here."

"That's so cool!", the boy gasped, squishing his own cheeks with his hands as they continued going down the stairs, "What was it like living there?"

"Man, I don't even remember," he snorted, picking at his teeth, "We moved here when I was like, two months old, so I'm basically a Beach City pure-bred. Last time I went there to see my grandparents, a coupla years ago, it was nice I guess."

"Did you see any pandas?", Steven asked, eyes wide in curiosity at the revelation of Lars being a well traveled soul.

"The only pandas I've ever seen are at the zoo in Charm City," he snickered, "And before you ask, yes, the food over there is super different from the takeout stuff you get over here."

"So...no huge collections of those fancy takeout boxes then?"

"Nope" he laughed, "Or fortune cookies. Some shmuck in America made those."

Steven whispered as if he'd had a life changing experience, "Everything is so different now..."

Chuckling at the boy's reaction, Lars headed through his living room, towards the kitchen, when he stopped in place, "Oh crud, I forgot to put my paints away last night."

"You were painting?", Steven smiled, "Can I see?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever," he mumbled, turning around, hurrying past him, and towards another door that led into the garage, opening it hastily, and cursed under his breath as he saw the mixed paints on his palate had dried, and the bottles of paint had been left open all night, "I'm gonna have to put water on these again, and re-mix them, that's gonna fuckin' suck," he grouched, forgetting he was in earshot of a child. Oh well. Steven wasn't going to repeat any of this. If anything, Steven was too busy admiring the unfinished canvas, with gritty and graphic sharks partially painted in, on the easel that was snugly set in the corner of the garage, complete with a chair and a fold-up table with art supplies.

"This is really gooood," he whispered, reaching out to touch it.

Lars slapped his hand away, "Don't do that, I don't want it smudging."

"Can I keep this one when you're done?", Steven asked, stars in his eyes.

"Sure. It'll cost you 500 dollars, three of my shifts at the Big Doughnut, and your human soul. Still want it?"

"_Yesssss_."

Lars laughed, "You're a goof," and gently swatted the kid's hair, dipping his brushes in water, and ran one of them across all the paint on the palette, and put some water in the bottles of paint he had, shaking them a bit to get moisture back.

Steven was watching him work with the brushes and paint, and then glanced at the canvas, then back to him, "...Are you gonna keep working on your painting?"

"Wasn't planning it,", he shrugged, "Why, you wanna steal it that soon?"

"I was just gonna watch you paint if you were," he shrugged, rocking on his heels, looking up at him with a hopeful smile.

Lars stared at him for a second, then sighed, "Yeah, I guess I can work a bit more on it. Can you hold Sugar while I do it though?", he asked, looking at the snake snuggled on his shoulders.

"Er...yeah!", Steven gulped, absolutely afraid of actually holding a snake, "She's...not gonna bite me, is she?"

"Well, it depends on how delicious you look to her," he spoke with dead seriousness, gently plucking her off his shoulders, and motioned for Steven to hold his arms out, "Don't drop her, she's fragile", he muttered, and once he made sure she was coiled around Steven's arm, content to stay, he turned his attention to the painting.

Once Steven was certain Sugar was not going to eat him, he sat on a stack of tires in the garage to watch Lars paint. He found himself mesmerized by how slow and delicately the teen was moving the paintbrush in his hands, and how skillfully he was moving the brush. It seemed so surreal that for someone who seemed to have an internal slouch to everything he did as well as an irritable twitch, he had such elegance when he worked with a paintbrush.

Steven was growing so glad he had his mother's gift to see beauty in everything.

* * *

Having retreated to the lighthouse, Ronaldo had tried to focus on his most recent theories in hope to get a clear head about this whole thing, but if anything, it just cluttered his thoughts even further. His concern for the collapse of the Earth from the inside out thanks to the Diamond Authority hardly distracted from his concern about his role in harming or helping Lars' mental state. For all he knew, those rock soldiers were still in the process of plotting out their first move on the earth. His former friend's mental state seemed to be a bit more urgent at this point.

Finding no use in trying to busy himself with his research today, Ronaldo retreated from his office down to the lighthouse's main floor, where he'd stacked boxes of miscellaneous junk from the past years he'd spent in the place, going as far back as when he founded the 'Explorers Club', maybe even farther back than that, when he and Lars snuck into the lighthouse to throw rocks from the top deck, seeing if they could fall into the ocean if they threw them hard and far enough. He knew that in one of the boxes, there was probably a plethora of stale, dried out cookies, crackers, twinkies, and other snacks that they had brought in to share after school, having made the lighthouse their designated hangout spot when things weren't busy.

Curiosity getting the best of him, Ronaldo had decided to root through some of the boxes, seeing if those snacks actually were still in there. The twinkies probably survived, and could be of good use when the Diamond Authority took over anyway.

In the first box, he'd found the Explorer Club journal he'd made when he and Lars decided to team up to unveil the paranormal activity that happened in their unsuspecting city. Most of the pages were blank, the first page having had the ripped up shreds of the photo he'd taken of Lars taped onto it, and the few following entries after that were failed attempts of his to carry the club on by himself. He had very quickly resolved that paranormal discovery was not a group activity, and that he'd be a lone hero on this one.

The second box had stuff that wasn't even related to the club, it was just various things from childhood. Legos stacked into meaningless shapes, a few broken Transformer toys, and a stuffed toy snake were nestled at the top, while random comic books were stacked at the bottom. A few toys, like the tiny cars, and plastic model of an X-wing fighter, had Lars' name marked on them in blue sharpie, so he wouldn't have forgotten them. And yet, he still left them behind after all.

Ronaldo had felt a strange sense of nostalgia as he looked through the boxes, soon coming across one he'd filled with mementos from Lars' family's Chinese New Year party when they were small. Lars had invited him with the reason of not wanting to be bored ('hardly anyone at these things speaks English, and they always try to pinch my cheek!'), and Ronaldo had basically kept all the free crap he was given that wasn't edible. There were some red envelopes that were supposed to have money in them (already spent), unlit firecrackers, some fortune sticks, and various other trinkets that Ronaldo couldn't put a name to back then, until Lars explained them to him. A lot of the mementos, such as the envelopes he'd kept, had imprints of dragons on them due to the zodiac of that year. Lars had told him that when it was a person's zodiac year, it was supposed to mean bad luck was on its way, and that person would need to wear something red given to them by a relative to ward away the bad luck. From what Ronaldo knew, his friend's only red piece of attire that was gifted to him was a scratchy sweater, and once his zodiac year had come up, Lars chanced it with the bad luck. Too bad he would have had to face it alone, since he and Ronaldo had stopped being friends the year before.

The last box seemed fairly new and untouched. Most of the items Ronaldo didn't even remember bringing into the lighthouse. He didn't even remember _owning_ these things.

A journal was resting in the box on top of some scribbled out sketchbooks, and some torn clothes, as well as a small golden horse figurine. The only entry in it was dated from a little under a year ago.

_'I'm not sure if I can do this anymore.'_

It didn't take the curly-haired teen too long to guess who had written it. He was both impressed that Lars had been keeping things in the lighthouse without him knowing or noticing he was ever there, but horrified that the other could have very well been leaving him a sign that he needed his friend back, or using the lighthouse as a place to put his final words before his life ended.

He grabbed the box, as well as a red 'Keep Beach City Weird' shirt, and high-tailed it out of the lighthouse. He had work to do.

* * *

"How come you never tell me all this cool stuff about you?", Steven asked Lars as the other rinsed his hands off in the kitchen sink from all the painting he'd done.

"Steven, my life is hardly as cool as you think," he huffed, rolling his eyes as he dried his hands off with a towel.

"Well, I think it is," the boy smiled, swinging his legs as he sat on the chair at the kitchen table, watching the other navigate around the cramped kitchen space. Sugar had nestled contently in Steven's hoodie, taking a snake-nap.

"You think everything's cool, man," he snorted slyly, grabbing a metal tea kettle, filling it with hot water, and setting it on the stove, mixing some dark brown textured powder into it.

"But you do some really cool things, you've been to a lot of different places with your family, you have an awesome pet, and you have holes in your ears!," he cheered.

"Lots of people can do what I do, lots of people travel to different places, I know I'm not the only person with a pet snake, and I got these holes in my ears because my ears were too big to begin with, and I wanted to settle the difference," he retorted dryly, "I'm not that cool."

"Well, what do you think is cool?", Steven asked, resting his chin on his hands.

Lars paused as he stared at the kettle on the stove, and then shrugged, "Well...stuff that people don't really hear about."

"Like what?"

"...stuff that you do, y'know? You have your weirdo family-", he huffed when Steven's awe was interrupted to give a disapproving look, "sorry, _not-weirdo_ family from space who fight monsters and get to be superheroes."

"You think I'm cool?", Steven gasped, eyes wide and starry at this revelation.

"Don't rub it in," he snorted, "I guess it's just kinda cool you get to do all this stuff and figure out your 'magical destiny', and get to be super important...", he started to go quiet, "I'm not. I'm just trying to get decent grades, keep a job, get paid for said job and all while seeing if I can figure out what on earth is _wrong_ with me."

The only sound in the kitchen for several seconds was the occasional bubble or puff of steam from the kettle, which Lars had seemed to focus his attention on, not wanting to see how upset or discouraged he probably made Steven with his comment.

Instead, the half-gem boy spoke up softly, "I still think you're pretty cool."

Lars glanced over to him from the corner of his eyes, curious to see what he was going to add onto that.

"You didn't give up and you're getting better," Steven smiled, "You go to work every day, and you get up even earlier than I ever have, and go to bed even later than I can. I get to go on gem adventures, because, well, I'm a gem, and that's kind of a thing for me, but you get to go to all these places on earth I've never visited or even heard of. I don't even know if Garnet, Amethyst, or Pearl have been to those places either. Or at least, haven't experienced them in the same way you do. If you didn't work at the Big Doughnut, then we wouldn't have all those cool posters you drew for the new stuff it's selling, or the really gross...I mean..._sophisticated_ cans of green tea you convinced them to put in the fridges! And Sadie wouldn't have someone to beat up or reach the top shelves. And she thinks you're an awesome boyfriend," he grinned, giving him a thumbs up, "And I think you're an awesome guy to talk to about cool stuff like video games and comic books and wrestling! It doesn't matter if someone's already done it before you or if they're doing it now. You're at least doing something and getting through every day even when it's hard, and I think that's really great!", and as he finished speaking, Steven's gem had illuminated under his shirt, giving that area of the kitchen a rosy tint, even Sugar's pure-white scales looked a pale pink. Steven looked at his gem in amazement, and felt a sense of comfort, as if his mother was telling him he was doing her good work, reminding others of how important they were.

Lars had glanced at the boy, seeming to take his words in, but was also incredibly surprised at the glow of the other's gem. Left without words once the glow of the gem had faded, he just stared at Steven, blinking slowly, and was snapped back to the present when the kettle whistled, and he quickly and awkwardly focused his attention back to it, taking it off the stove, and pouring its contents into two mugs. Still silent, he brought the mugs over, and without a word, gave one to Steven, who didn't even ask for it to begin with. He then sat down in his own chair, awkwardly glancing at Steven, then his mug.

'...Well...gem kid or not, you still have a pet lion. That's a pretty cool thing that's never happened," he finally spoke up, taking a long sip. He didn't want to thank Steven out loud for his words, finding it a bit embarrassing. The flush on his cheeks was enough to tell Steven that he was grateful for those words though.

Steven just smiled with triumph, "True. True. So how many other places besides China have you been to? I can't even remember!"

"Nine," he mumbled into his mug, taking another sip before putting the cup down.

"If I got a globe out, could you point them to me?", Steven smiled, taking a large gulp of the contents of his mug, and did his absolute best not to spit it out once it touched his tongue. How could Lars even drink this? What was it anyway?

The teenager must have seen his reaction, because he chuckled when Steven's cheeks puffed out like a goldfish before he answered, "Yeah, I probably could. It's mostly just a lot of places in Asia because family visits, vacations, and my dad's business trips when I was a kid," he shrugged, then counted them off on his fingers, "South Korea, Japan, Laos, Vietnam, and the Philippines. I've also gone to Germany, Ireland, Mexico, and Canada."

"That's a lot of places to go without a warp pad," Steven mused, really impressed.

"I haven't traveled in a while though," he shrugged, "Like I said, a lot of it is from when I was a kid. Last time I went out of the country was for my Yéyé...I mean, my grandpa's funeral in Laos. He was born there, grew up there, moved with my grandma to live in China, and wanted to be buried back where he was born...that wasn't a fun trip. It was hot as hell, and I was as miserable as everyone else there, probably even moreso because the clothing we had to wear for the funeral was really itchy and uncomfortable...and lots of chanting in a language I didn't know. I didn't even know he died until my mom told me to leave work and put a suitcase together...and she didn't even tell me where we were going until we got on the plane."

"You must miss him a lot."

Lars flushed, staring at his drink, admitting awkwardly, "I still do, yeah. I remember visiting him in the summers when I was little. He had bad eyesight without his glasses, and thought when my hair got really really red in the middle of summer, I was on fire."

Steven laughed, "That's cute!"

"It's not cute Steven, it's-", Lars caught himself, finding himself needlessly disagreeable, and sighed, snorting, "Yeah. It kind of was. He was a good person."

The boy smiled, "I bet he was," and took another forceful sip of the tea (at least, he thought it was tea?).

The red head sighed, "You don't have to keep drinking that if you don't like it."

"No, no, it's good! I swear!", Steven smiled, holding back a grimace as he finished the contents of the mug, giving a small groan, "OK!...so your last trip was a bad one. What...was your favorite trip?", he asked as if he were a talk show host wanting an interview.

"Favorite...heh...", Lars snickered, "Probably Japan. We stayed a week in Tokyo when I was about the same age as you...what, you're like 12, right? So...yeah...my dad had business stuff to do, so my mom let my sister and I go traveling around the city. I've never seen so many arcades in my life...it was like...video game heaven," he stopped momentarily to laugh at Steven's awestruck expression. The kid looked ready to die at the idea of a video game heaven existing. "Anyway, we spent a good chunk of time in those places, and we wandered the city with our mom and did some shopping too. I ate way too much of everything," he snickered again, "I think I almost threw up one day because I ate my weight in candy."

Steven was laughing, "It sounds like you had a lot of fun!"

"I did man, I really did," he smiled in spite of himself, and finished his tea. He honestly felt a little bit better telling these stories. He stood up, "And speaking of eating, that tea I had isn't going to keep me awake all day. I need actual food," and he walked over to the fridge, looking through it, pulling out random ingredients, and then rooted through the cupboards, "You eat omelettes?", he asked Steven as he was putting stuff on the counter.

"Uh...yeah, but aren't you the one who-"

"I know you probably haven't eaten anything since breakfast, and I have to get this crap cleared out of my fridge one of these days before it expires, so I might as well feed you too," Lars rationalized as he moved around the kitchen space. He swore under his breath as he saw the box of doughnuts, "Forgot you brought those. Oh well, we can eat 'em for dessert or something."

"Do you want help cooking?", Steven asked, getting up out of his chair.

"Nah, I think I got this," Lars shrugged, "Do me a favor, and put Sugar back upstairs though. She gets pissy when she smells cooking in the kitchen."

Steven laughed, and gave an over dramatic salute, rushing the reptile upstairs, and gently put her back in her cage, patting her head, and gave a giggle when her tongue tickled the palm of his hand. She wasn't so bad after all!

When he came back downstairs, Lars seemed to be incredibly focused on preparing the ingredients for cooking, carefully chopping tomatoes and mushrooms together with carrots, onions, and green pepper already finely chopped in a surprisingly quick amount of time.

"You like meat in your omelette?" Lars asked, already pulling out ham and what looked like left over chicken in some sort of sauce.

"I like everything...except Lion Lickers...and whatever that tea stuff you gave me was," Steven smiled.

Lars snickered, "That was dried dog poop," and when Steven gave a roar of despair, he laughed, "Jerkin' your leg, man. It was kombucha. "

"I don't even know what that is! How could you do this to me! How could you violate my truuuust?", the boy cried in dramatic dismay, dropping to the floor, which only made Lars laugh harder.

"Hey, you drank it! I just gave you a cup of it!"

The discussion and mockery of how Lars violated Steven's trust went on for about five more minutes until the teen had to stop laughing so he could concentrate on heating up the pan on the stove with oil, and start the actual process of cooking. And then the conversation went to what Steven's next destination for a gem mission would be, and if he could figure out where exactly on the globe it was located, just to see how well traveled he was in comparison to Lars. And then that conversation turned to Japanese movies, which turned to robots, and then back to gem stuff. Lars actually started to laugh so hard, he was wheezing.

When the doorbell rang, Lars was stifling his laughter, expecting it to be Sadie, and was most certainly not expecting to be staring face to face with Ronaldo Fryman.

* * *

"I can't believe I still remembered where your house was!", Ronaldo had exclaimed exuberantly, looking pretty cheerful as he looked around the porch of the house he had faintly remembered.

"I can't believe it either," Lars had muttered under his breath, wondering what in the hell he was actually doing here. It's not like he hated Ronaldo...it's just that he really didn't want him in vicinity of his home...or at least in hearing distance, "...so like...why are you here?"

"I wanted to drop something off! Can I come in?", he asked, glancing at the box tucked under his arm.

"Er...I'm kind of cooking right now, and-"

"Lars the eggs are starting to- oh, Hi Ronaldo!", Steven cheered, waving from behind Lars, "Did you finally decide to come visit!"

"What? Steven! You told him I was home?", Lars whispered harshly to the kid, who shrugged.

"I won't be long, I just wanted to give you something," Ronaldo assured, looking at the other, whose flushed cheeks were just about as red as his hair.

"...yeah...aight, come in. Don't do anything weird in here or anything," he groaned, rubbing his head, feeling a headache starting to come back. Steven was a kid he could handle. Ronaldo, not so much. At least not right now.

"So like, what's in the box anyway?", he asked, sounding snarky, wanting Ronaldo to leave as soon as possible. He grew slightly nervous when Ronaldo glanced at him with a serious look, then the box, and cracked open the lid just enough so he could look in, and see the sketchbooks and journal he'd dumped there, and the color drained from his face. He didn't seem to notice or hear Steven ask him if he was okay, and then ask Ronaldo what was in the box.

Ronaldo told Steven there was nothing in the box, and then glanced to Lars, speaking under his breath, "We can talk when Steven's not here...", and then smiled again, "So what are you guys even cooking in here? It smells almost as delicious as Korean barbecue!"

"Omelettes!", Steven smiled, "Want one?"

"Steven!", Lars scolded, and began to sputter, "I'm just cooking lunch for the kid, we haven't eaten all day and-"

"I'd love one!", Ronaldo smiled, already heading into the kitchen, following behind the boy who was proudly stirring the pan for Lars so the food wouldn't burn.

Lars was slowly growing more anxious and tense as Steven and Ronaldo chattered away. He wanted to know what the hell Ronaldo was doing with those things he'd dumped. He'd thought that after the whole horror club freak out, Ronaldo wouldn't have gone back into that place, and had put that box in there so at least, when he was gone after that attempt to well...be gone, it wouldn't be laying around in his room. He didn't want to even know what the other was going to do with that stuff, if he was going to use it as blackmail or not.

The suspense was getting to him, so he turned around from the pan, giving an awkward, forced smile, "Hey Steven! Can you do me a big favor, man? My mom's dogs are in the backyard, and probably gettin' bored or hungry, can you go check on 'em, and play with 'em a bit? I forgot to let 'em in earlier."

"Oh! Yeah!" Steven beamed, excited at the idea of playing with fluffy dogs. He was laughing as he hurried out towards the door to the backyard, leaving Ronaldo and Lars in the kitchen alone.

Lars had faced away from the other, arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to protect himself, as if it would do anything. His stomach was knotting up tenfold, and he was just waiting for Ronaldo to tell him something he didn't want to hear.

"I read your journal."

Sucking in a breath, he spoke tensely, "Look, I wrote that thing a long time ago, I wasn't in a good place and I'm trying to just keep going OK, I-"

"You tried to kill yourself."

Freezing up, Lars had no answer to that. Ronaldo somehow knew about what happened, and he wanted to know how, but he also didn't, figuring that with the visits from people he'd gotten over the months meant that news traveled fast.

"...I'm sorry you felt you had to do that."

Chewing his lip, Lars sighed, "...I am too...I don't even know what I was thinking when I-"

Ronaldo cut in, abruptly asking, "It wasn't because of me, was it? Be honest."

Lars turned around to face him, seeing the concern in his face; the worry. The _guilt_.

"No...hey, look," he sighed, rubbing his head, "It's...nobody's fault ok? I was just...really _really_ in a bad state of mind, and everything kind of built up. Like...for a long time, y'know? You didn't have anything to do with it."

Ronaldo just gave a stiff nod of the head, curls bouncing slightly, "...are you feeling better now?"

"Like, now as in the whole scheme of things, or as in, right now?"

"Either...", Ronaldo answered, glancing at him, now staring at the pill box Lars had left out on the counter.

Lars' hand instinctively reached out to snatch the box, not having wanted it out in the open, and not having realized it was out when Steven was in the kitchen either. But as he came up with an answer, he pulled his hand back, "Well...right now I feel terrible and pretty damn empty. And I hate feeling empty, because I'd like to feel _something_. Because if I don't feel a damn thing, then I start to wonder what the point is of me staying around-", he cut that thought a second to add for sake of easing the other's sudden look of worry, "I'm not gonna kill myself I swear, I don't feel that now, but like...it still doesn't feel good, man...but like...in comparison to months ago...I feel better. I have more good days than I do bad, which tells me that in the long run, things are probably gonna be ok...so...it's kind of a one-day-at-a-time thing, y'know?"

When Ronaldo didn't respond as soon as expected, Lars decided to turn his attention back to the pan, but about three seconds later, felt something grip around him in a tight hold. He yelped, giving a tiny screech, trying to make sense of it. It took him several seconds to realize this was a hug, and awkwardly squirmed out of it.

"I'm still really sorry."

"Look, just-"

"No really. I...I kind of suspected things were bad for you after Halloween, and I didn't do anything about it."

"There wasn't anything you really coulda done man," Lars admitted blankly.

"I could have stuck around...I could have tried to make things better for us as friends and-"

"I'd still have been depressed as hell, fact's a fact," he muttered, squirming out of the hug, "Look. Stop feeling bad for me, ok?"

Ronaldo just blankly looked at his shoes.

Lars huffed, "What do I have to do to show you I'm ok? I basically spilled my guts out to you about this, so what else can I do?"

"I don't know," the other admitted, "Sorry...I still just feel really bad that we had that stupid fight and we stopped hanging out."

"Oh jeez, that was years ago man, we're both different people," he groaned, "You're into weird, I'm into...not weird."

"You used to be into weird," Ronaldo shrugged, sitting at the table, scrolling to find his 'throwback Thursday' photo on his blog, "I gave you that poison control t-shirt for your birthday after we visited that power plant and saw that movie on radiation poisoning."

"Oh...that," Lars snorted, glancing at the picture, "That movie gave me nightmares, I couldn't sleep for a week."

"And yet you still wore the shirt," Ronaldo spoke, sounding a bit smug.

"Well, yeah, it was metal as fuck," he snorted, stirring the pan a bit, feeling a little calmer at the smell of cooking eggs, meat, and vegetables.

Things were quiet a moment before Ronaldo decided to add, "I was looking in the other boxes at the lighthouse and found the Chinese New Year stuff your family gave me."

"Oh yeah," he mumbled, "We...haven't had another New Year celebration for a few years. My mom's been too busy with her work to organize it, and my dad's not Chinese so-"

"What's your zodiac year?", he cut in, sounding calmly curious, not exuberant like it was a blog related thing of hype.

"Year of the horse," he shrugged, "Yours would be year of the goat, since you were born the year after...get ready for bad luck in a few years," he warned with intent to tease.

"Oh jeez, don't say that to me," he groaned, which made Lars snicker, "Seriously, don't. I'm busy anticipating what could be the destruction of our planet, and I don't need to know about the danger of bad luck from the ancient spiritual influence of the zodiac!"

"Relax man, I'm just being an ass," the other cackled, "I'm sure you're gonna be fine."

Ronaldo gave a breath through his nose, "So what's the deal with the animals anyway, and why do you get bad luck if it's your zodiac year?"

"Abridged version my mom told me was that you're offending the 'God of Age'", he snickered using air quotes, "And that he's basically preparing bad luck for you that year. Buncha superstition."

"What's the longer version?", Ronaldo asked, crossing his arms, and leaning back in the chair.

"There's not really a longer version, but there's some hokey symbolism behind the animals if that's any interest to you," Lars shrugged, stirring the pan.

"Go on~", Ronaldo goaded, hands folded.

"Well, basically the animals come in pairs, and like, the horse and goat are paired up in what they represent. The horse is supposed to be representing moving forward, and the goat is supposed to be for unity, because of herds and stuff. They're supposed to go together, because if the horse isn't united, it's gonna be abandoned, and if the goat is united but doesn't go anywhere, well...it doesn't go anywhere," he muttered, cutting the lumpy mass of omelette with the spatula.

"So...it's kind of like us," Ronaldo smiled, eyes closed as if he were trying to be wise.

"Uh, absolutely not, no, that's really fucking gay," Lars snorted, which earned him a swat from the other, telling him not to be a dink. He laughed again, and rolled his eyes, "Fine, fine, it's not gay, it's just really silly. Besides, if anything, I relate more to the dragon."

"Oh? And why is that?", he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lars glanced at him, and spoke under his breath, "Because dragons are fucking cool."

This made them both crack up, and as they were about to continue the conversation, Steven was rushing through the kitchen, screaming in terror as two large black and brown chow-chows pursued him like silent furry behemoths. Once he was cornered in the kitchen, they pounced on him, licking his face excitably, which made him laugh and cry in terror, "LAAAARS! They won't stop licking me! I told them to stop, and they won't!", he almost cried.

The teenager was laughing, and he snapped his fingers, speaking in Mandarin, "_Fushi! Gengi! Stop that, sit down!_", and both dogs obeyed, sitting down like they had not just attacked a child with rambunctious love. Lars then spoke to them, "_Good dogs. Good."_

Soon, both dogs had settled under the kitchen table where Steven was sitting with Ronaldo, while Lars was cutting the omelette into quarters, to leave a part for Sadie when she arrived, and wordlessly offered a plate to Ronaldo, and gave Steven his plate with a playful swat to the head.

"So why did they only stop attacking Steven when you told them to?", Ronaldo asked as he cut his omelette into bite size pieces.

The other answered with a snicker, "They only understand Chinese, or my mom's unintelligible screaming if they pounce on her at 3 AM."

Steven huffed at Lars, "You could have told me that!"

"Oh, but that wouldn't have been half as funny," he grinned, "Putting your life in danger with big stupid dogs. My dream."

"Is that really your dream?", Ronaldo laughed, reaching for the bottle of wasabi.

Lars swatted his hand, "Ronaldo, for Goddsakes, eat it as it is, it doesn't need wasabi! And no, my real dream is to own a Harley and shred concrete with it. But this...this was my second dream."

Soon, the phone rang, and Lars answered it, checking the caller I.D. Seeing his mom's number, he picked up, switching back to speaking Mandarin, telling her he got up and showered and took his medicine, and that he was okay, and getting through the day. He hung up, and shrugged to the two who were watching with curiosity, "We only speak Mandarin at home unless we have guests, which is fantastic because we can insult them and pass it off as a traditional blessing."

"What if the guests speak Mandarin, and know you're probably insulting them?", Ronaldo asked slyly.

Lars glanced side to side as if he had a secret, and whispered as a joke, "We speak French instead."

Laughter filled the kitchen, which absolutely delighted Sadie to hear as she entered the house several seconds later.

* * *

"So, what is this for?", Lars asked Ronaldo as he handed him the folded red shirt.

"Well, I remember you telling me that red attire was crucial for good luck. And considering your year will come up sooner than mine, I feel it's fitting that you have this to wear."

Lars rolled his eyes, "That only works if a relative gave that to me. And this isn't even in my size, I'm a medium."

Ronaldo huffed, "Well, I tried. It would have made good advertising if you wore it."

"I ain't a billboard, man," he snorted, then passed the shirt to Sadie, who was plopped beside him, tired out from her shift at work, "You want it? You follow his blog, right?"

"Yeah, thanks!", she smiled, taking it from him, and sliding it over her work shirt, "Nice and baggy. It'll be a good pajama shirt!"

"But you can't keep Beach City weird when you're sleeping!" Ronaldo insisted as a joke.

Sadie laughed, and snuggled up against Lars, patting his arm so he could move it, and she lay back onto his lap as a pillow for her head. She was glad to see he was seeming to feel good. Once they were alone, she could ask him how he was really feeling, if there was anything he didn't feel comfortable expressing in that large group. While he pet her hair, she glanced over to Steven, who was on the floor, flanked by both dogs, and smiled, "You have a good day with Lars, Steven?"

"You bet! Lars has some really cool stories to tell! Does he tell you any of them?"

The blonde laughed when she saw Lars' cheeks turn red at her gaze, and she spoke, "He's told me a lot! He has a very interesting life, hm?"

"He really does!", Steven smiled, petting both dogs on the head.

"Anything blog worthy?", Ronaldo teased.

"Noooo," Lars muttered, holding back a chuckle, "I don't like the attention. I want to live on my couch with Sadie. We can be hermits together."

"We can be hermits during break at work," she laughed, sitting up when she heard a phone buzz, initially thinking it was hers.

Steven was already answering his phone, and gasped as he read the text, "I forgot! I was going to see the premiere of _DogCopter: 3.14, the Pi-triarchy _with Connie tonight! I have to go grab the sneak-in-snacks we bought!", and jumped up from his spot, and sighed,"So I guess I need to get going."

"Awww, OK, well, see you later, Steven," Sadie smiled, waving to him.

"Keep your eyes peeled for the signs of world takeover," Ronaldo spoke with enthusiasm.

"Yeah...see ya, Steven," Lars spoke with a shrug, trying to play it cool.

Steven looked at Lars, and after a second, hurried over, and hugged him tight, which caught the teen off guard, face flushed. He was about to push Steven off, but caught himself before he could, realizing why the kid was doing this. Sighing, he pat his back, and smiled awkwardly, "OK, yeah, thanks," he muttered, "Today was a lot more interesting with you around." Something made Lars feel a little happier inside when he saw how Steven beamed at him excitedly at the comment. It kind of felt good for once to know someone looked up to him that much.

When Steven went in for another hug, Sadie and Ronaldo took this as a signal to turn this solo bro-hug into a group hug, and Lars found himself crushed with the power of love, friendship, and Ronaldo's He-Man power bear-hug.

"O-OK, guys, you're crushing my ribs," he squeaked, trying to squirm free. Ronaldo and Steven soon pulled back, and the boy scurried out with a wave. Lars hoped that Steven had left the house without any worries about him.

After a while, Ronaldo looked at one of his multiple watches (each with a different time), and sighed, "I should get back to my investigations. I let myself fall behind today."

"Oh nooooo," Lars had responded sarcastically, waving his hands, but stopped when Sadie frowned in disapproval at him, and laughed softly, "Yeah, OK man...thanks for comin' by."

The curly-haired teen nodded, and caught Lars in another crushing hug, mumbling, "Take care of yourself ok? We should hang out more."

Lars flushed, "Uh...yeah...sure...", and coughed once he was released, "What do you do anyway besides blog though? I don't do that shit."

"Underground wrestling?" he suggested, "My ban gets lifted in a few weeks. I've always wanted to do a tag team match."

"Man, I'm a spectator, not a wrestler," he snickered, rolling his eyes. God, what was Ronaldo thinking? He couldn't imagine himself wearing a costume and getting his ass kicked in front of an audience.

"You could wear a mask...nobody will know!", Ronaldo grinned.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Lars shrugged, "Maybe. Gotta fit with the theme, right?"

"We'll work on it," the fry-man smiled knowingly. Anything to get their friendship back on track, and hopefully promote the bettering of Lars' mental state. It seemed it was already heading in that direction.

Giving a small wave goodbye once the other headed out, Lars settled against Sadie, his voice going uncharacteristically soft and clean like cotton, "How was your day?", he asked her, going back to petting her hair.

She smiled as she heard his voice go soft, knowing that as his 'honest' voice, when he let his guard down, and gave a small shrug, "It was a slow day. I ended up doing inventory in the back. We're short on crullers, probably because you ate some last week."

"Whoops," he laughed softly, hand pausing momentarily as it met with a tangle, and gently moved his fingers to work through it, so he could run his hand cleanly through again. He spoke again, "Did you send Steven over here today?"

"Yes and no. I told him you were down today, and he was the one who suggested visiting. I made him wait a few hours before coming over, because I thought you'd still be asleep...is that OK?"

"Yeah, that was fine," he mumbled, "I was out of it until like, noon. I slept a little longer after he came by, and then I got up, showered, painted a bit, talked about random shit, and then we cooked lunch, and Ronaldo came over. Did you send him too?"

Sadie laughed softly, "No...", then paused before she spoke, "But he did come by the Big Doughnut earlier, asking about you."

"Asking what?", he asked, momentarily stopping petting her hair.

"Well, he was wondering if you were OK. I guess he knew about what you were going through and what happened a while back, and he was a little worried about you."

"Huh. Really," he responded, voice soft. It wasn't a response of sarcasm, rather a response of not expecting it.

"I hope it wasn't too bad," she looked up, giving a tiny smile, and reached a hand up to pet his face.

"...it...wasn't that bad actually," he admitted, "I thought it was gonna make me feel worse...but it didn't. I mean, it really didn't make me feel better, but it didn't worsen anything..."

"That's good," she smiled, sitting up to wrap her arms around his torso in a hug, "Are you feeling better than you did this morning."

"I do," he smiled genuinely to her, "I feel better. You'll see me at work tomorrow, OK?"

"I'm glad," she smiled, feeling warmth fill her as he wrapped his arms around her in a squeeze cuddle, planting his face in her hair. She wished he could be like this more often, but she would take what was offered. Lars was a shy person when it came to affection, but when he was affectionate, it was a special treat. She felt a sense of relief also fill her, knowing that this setback wasn't the starting point of another downward spiral, just a setback, plain and simple. And now things could get back on track, and keep going forward.

"Are you glad Steven came by?", she asked him as he continued to shower her with affection.

"...yeah...I am," he admitted, "He's a good kid. A little nuts, but he's good."

"I'm glad he was able to help you today," she smiled, blushing cutely when Lars nuzzled her behind her ear just so, and took his hand, playing with it gently, delicately brushing her own fingers across his calloused, warm digits.

"I wonder if his alien-rock magic had anything to do with it," Lars teased gently, not in a mean spirited tone, but good-humored, "His bellybutton glowed today."

"Really?", she laughed, "Is that normal?"

"He's Steven. Is anything normal with that kid?", he laughed again, occasionally flexing his fingers when Sadie pet them.

"If you have another day like this in the future, but here's hoping you don't...would you want me to send him over?", she smiled, giving his thumb a kiss when he raised his arms up a bit towards her face.

Lars gave a small hum as if he was thinking, feeling uncertain about that. Depression was kind of an asshole in that whenever it got bad, he was sometimes unsure if he wanted company or not, and a followup issue, unsure if he needed the company or not. But Steven was no ordinary company. He may not have been able to cure his problems, but he sure did make things a little less terrible to deal with today.

He flopped over onto his side, pulling Sadie with him so they were both laying on the couch, "I'll think about it. I'll give you an answer before I go to bed," he resolved, glancing out the window, seeing it was dark. His parents would be home pretty soon, and they'd probably be glad to see him in a better state of mind. He smiled when Sadie rolled over to face his chest, and hugged her tight again. He was so lucky to have her. To know somebody would be there to remind him of his worth when his mind tried to tell him otherwise...he was so relieved.

"Want to stay for dinner?", he asked softly, kissing her nose, then her cheeks, then finally her lips, very quickly, "Or even the night? Your mom won't mind it again, right?", he questioned hopefully. He didn't have anything planned if she stayed the night, he just wanted her to talk to, to connect to, to make it through the night with the retained mindset that he was loved, and he was deserving of happiness and deserved to get better.

"Sure," she smiled, "We can go to work together tomorrow."

Lars' smile then and there, she swore, could have lit up all of Beach City, and filled the skies until they were worth stargazing at.

Before Lars went to bed that night, snuggled by Sadie, who was borrowing one of his pairs of pajama pants to go along with her nightshirt gifted by Ronaldo, he sent a text to Steven, feeling a boost of confidence as he put the phone down, and got a good night's sleep.

Steven had read the text while stargazing and laughing with Connie out on the beach, the glowing little screen reading,

_Thx for spending the day with me n helping me feel better. Come visit again when the time is right youll kno when. Ur pretty cool dont jinx it- Lars  
ps Sugar says hiss_

Steven beamed from ear to ear as his gem glowed from his bliss, illuminating the beach around him and being a beacon for all that may need him in the future. He'd always be there for them.

* * *

_**Epilogue**_

Upon returning home from work some weeks later, Lars greeted his mother, clicking his tongue when she reminded him she preferred he spoke in Mandarin to 'his elders'. Giving a good humored snort, he'd been on his way up to his room to change clothes when his mother then told him he had gotten a package postmarked from Seattle.

Knowing that meant Miriam had probably sent him something, he grinned as he grabbed the parcel, and took it upstairs, opening it, and seeing a letter on top of the wrapped mystery item inside.

_Hey Lars!_

_I'm so sorry I haven't gotten to talk with you as much, moving's been kind of a hassle. Jake's house is kind of small, and it's hard for me to figure out where exactly I can put all my stuff. Things might be a little less tricky after we get married next year and move into a bigger house. We're still trying to figure out where we're having the ceremony! Take my advice, and don't get married (haha)!_

_Anyway, I hope school and work are going OK for you, and that Beach City is keeping up with you and your funky flow. I know stuff was really rough for you this past year, and I'm still really sorry I didn't get to visit you for very long. I hope you're doing OK now, and if things aren't going to well, you can try to call me, and we can talk OK? _

_If you're still wondering about what I actually packed in this box aside from this letter, well, you're never gonna guess who called me! Your old friend Ronnie! Seems like you two are back to being buds again, and you have some sort of wrestling thing going on! You'll have to send me a picture of your costume (Like seriously, I'm wondering what you came up with for a wrestler identity called 'The Anonymous Troll'.) He wanted me to send you this so you'd have good luck! I have no idea what it is, it was wrapped when he gave it to me._

_Sorry you're still reading this! Open up whatever it is you were given! And I'll see you at Christmas, di di!_

_Lots of mush n' gush,_

_Miriam  
_

Lars delicately folded the letter, saving it, and then ripped open the wrapped gift, and unfolded it.

It was a red 'Keep Beach City Weird' T-shirt. Medium sized.

_Ronaldo was a jerk. He found the loophole._

Lars' laughter could be heard by the dogs in the backyard, as well as any neighbor in the vicinity of the house.


End file.
